I am the quintessential Northeastern big city girl – heat, humidity, sweat, dust, and dehydration (unless it’s from copious amounts of alcohol) are NOT a few of my favorite things. While these are conditions I would do anything to avoid, Bonnaroo is the one experience I will make an exception for.
I have never been so proud to have been called a “hipster” – because at least i’m a New York City hipster. Which is much preferred to the Minneapolis hipsters I had to camp next to, who were doing so many drugs I’m surprised they didn’t drop dead, and would not stop screaming about how there were “NO RULES!” Any pretense I may have had about sleeping was shattered with that single vapid sentence.
Once I became acclimated with the surroundings (thank god for friends with solar showers), we began the journey to Centeroo. I could bore you with all of the details about all of the bands I saw, but you don’t want to hear that. Among the worst performances I had to endure were “chillwave” darlings Wavves (as if the term “chillwave” wasn’t painful enough), Iron & Wine (who I adore, but just did not deliver), and Lil Wayne. Wheezy, I expected more from you than off-key mumbling while you paced the stage looking bored.
